


Slide Away

by strangefascination



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:09:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6937186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangefascination/pseuds/strangefascination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tempted by the forbidden, Obi-Wan finds himself attached to his most difficult pupil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slide Away

**Author's Note:**

> I messed around with the event timeline, RE: Anakin's mother, but previous major events as well as age differences between characters are consistent with canon.
> 
> This work will eventually contain explicit sex between an adult teacher and a 17-year-old student. If that's not your bag, this probably isn't the story for you.

I am old. I know this, I accept this – even without reaching forty I know I am old. Still strong, yes, no aches in my knees, a full head of hair; but grey creeps in the sides, wrinkles have begun to set in, and that’s not to mention my behaviour, which my students would gladly tell you just screams _old man._

And fate would be so cruel: to have me alone for so many years, my last love having been when I was still in college. Until now. Until him.

He, however, is _not_ old.

Not even close. By the time he reaches my age, I will be coming on fifty, and that’s – well. Too much to think about, at least for now.

I’m not making sense, am I? Perhaps it would do to start from the beginning.

 

  1. _now that you’re mine  
we’ll find a way  
of chasing the sun_



I can only see it now, looking back, but he had been after me for years. Certainly attached since the day we met, and though I’d have to be a mind-reader to be sure, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been nursing this… crush since the age of fourteen or so.

Nevertheless, the first seven years of our acquaintance came and went without consequence. He is the star of the fencing team, has been since he first set foot in the Academy and made it clear he was the best there was.

As a member of the fencing team, he has always been, at least for an hour a day, under my jurisdiction. It really is surprising I didn’t notice his affections earlier. I suppose enough students develop infatuations with their teachers that I had subconsciously blocked it out. It was never an option. Not before.

But the summer between his junior and senior years had brought his world crashing down around his feet and, for better or worse, I was dragged along for the ride.

            “Anakin, what on Earth are you doing here?”

It is the first week of August, and I am on my way out of a meeting with Headmaster Yoda and Dean Windu, finalising my class lists. The annual open-house is to take place the following week; as in almost all my years prior, I am to teach 12th-grade English, as well as single courses of public speaking and philosophy.

Truth be told, he is on my mind already – as a senior he is now my _academic_ responsibility, not just extracurricular. And I know him, know how stubborn he can be. While that can aid a person in athletics, it is no secret among the faculty that he is a notoriously difficult student: loud, disrespectful of authority, tardy, truant, lazy, arrogant – the list goes on and on.

And, as teenagers often are, he is an influence on his peers, as well, known for his singular ability to unite a class against a teacher, if he felt like it – sometimes just for the hell of it.

But despite my thoughts lingering on him, the last thing I expect is to see Anakin Skywalker roaming the hallways of the nearly-empty school three weeks before he’s due back.

            “I’m back early.”

            “Yes, I see that. Aren’t you supposed to be back in New Mexico with your family?”

He leans against the wall, turning his face away from me.

            “Well, my… my mom, she…”

He can’t even finish the sentence, tears beginning to well up in his eyes, and I know at once what has happened – he’d mentioned his mother being sick after the last year’s winter holiday.

            “Oh, Anakin, I’m sorry –”

His laugh is sharp and bitter, not humorous in the least.

            “Yeah, _everyone’s_ sorry.”

            “I really am, you know. I lost someone the same way not too long ago.”

Finally, he meets my eyes. He knows who I am speaking about – not simply my mentor, fellow teacher, and adoptive father, but also the one who brought Anakin here, gave him a chance at a life away from poverty, recognising the potential no one at his former school could see. It was seven years ago, and Anakin had only known him for a few months, compared to my thirteen years; nevertheless, I can tell my statement truly means something to him.

            “I didn’t want to come back here. I wasn’t ready. Sometimes I think I never should have come at all, should have stayed down there, with, with her –”

            “Don’t be silly, you couldn’t have prevented anything that happened. We cannot control that which operates outside of ourselves. You are responsible for you and you alone.”

He rolls his eyes, but his mouth has perked up slightly. Not enough to be called a smile, no; but it’s something.

            “We’re not in philosophy class, Mr. Kenobi.”

(It’s strange – even then, before it all began, he always had a teasing edge to his voice when he addressed me, when he said my name.)

            “I apologise. I suppose I’m in teaching mode already.”

            “Yeah, tell me about it… hey, is that coffeeshop on 7th still closed for remodelling? I really need some coffee.”

Already sounding far too old for his age.

            “No, they’ve reopened. But there’s construction on 7th right now, it’s a nightmare to walk there. I can give you a ride if you like.”

            “I’d like.”

He’s smiling fully at me now. I pass the flip of my stomach off as happiness at being able to cheer up someone who’d been through far too much in the preceding days – no matter how misplaced this assessment is, it’s certainly all I can fathom at the moment.

            “Come on, then, my car’s just out front.”

Anakin hesitates before following me.

            “Oh, Mr. Kenobi – you’re paying, right…?”

            “…I suppose I may as well. Only for the Academy’s finest.”

This is mistake number one.

I’d expected sullen silence from him, but he’s animated, even on the short ride to the coffeeshop. He rattles on about his favourite band (the Sex Pistols, at the moment), his (premature) opinions on the new teachers (decidedly negative), his birthday the previous week (his 17th), how much he hates the dorms (a lot); it’s all that much easier for me, since I don’t have to say a word, just nod occasionally.

I find it odd, him speaking so comfortably and freely with me, even if the topics don’t delve deep at all.

It all becomes clear, however, an hour later, when we are back in my car, a block away from the Academy dorms – and Anakin leans over in broad daylight and lays his hand on my knee, edging towards my thigh.

            “Mr. Kenobi.”

I shove his hand away (not quickly enough) –

            “Anakin, _what_ are you _doing_?!”

He looks stunned, like he hadn’t even considered I would spurn the advances of a minor. When he speaks, he trips over his words.

            “I… you were so- so nice to me, I – I thought. Thought. It would be okay. You’re nice, and I like you, and I want to show y–”

            “That’s quite enough! I don’t want to hear it. You are my student, a _child_ , and I resent even having to have this conver _sation_ with you!”

            “I just thought…”

            “We’re going to forget about this, alright? Back to normal.”

            “Yes, sir.”

There’s a wry smile on his face and I can’t for the life of me figure out why.

            “I think it’s time you were going. I’ll see you in class in a few weeks.”

(I don’t yet know that I am lying.)

The car door shuts without another word from Anakin, still smiling.

I sit, alone, in the car for at least six minutes after that, gripping the steering wheel – feeling the burn where his hand had been. I cursed myself for being so careless, so open with someone so vulnerable – as if _I_ had touched _him_ –

And, pathetically, I recognise the cause of his smirk: nowhere did I say I didn’t want him.

Mistake number two.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued as soon as possible...


End file.
